Nothing More
by elphabathedelirious32
Summary: From Padme's discovery of her pregnancy to my little version of post ROTS considerably happier than George Lucas', considerably more logical as well. Except for dreams, Padme's POV.
1. Just Great

A/N: This is a random story I decided to write for no apparent reason except too much Gilmore Girls, too much analyzing and comparing Star Wars to everything in the universe, and too much caffeine, also getting soap in my eye which was extremely painful. Don't ask.

Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars, sadly, because my version of the world is so much better than the actual thing. Nor do I own Gilmore Girls, which I will be paraphrasing in my Star Wars fanfiction. "He doesn't want me to jiggle baby" is from Gilmore Girls, so, you know, don't sue me.

_Shit._ That's what I think, first, which is funny because I don't swear. Or burp, or scream, or drink, or dance, or get excited, or jump, or laugh, or breathe loudly. Then, I think about that word, shit, and about the substance in the little cup in front of me, and I think, _Close enough_. And then I start to cry, and laugh, all at once. Because of the reason I don't swear or burp or scream or dance or get excited or jump or laugh or breathe loudly. I am a Senator. And if that means I don't swear or burp or scream or dance or get excited or jump or laugh or breathe loudly, it sure means I don't get pregnant. Not when to the rest of the world I am not married, because the man I am married to is a Jedi and technically not allowed to be married to me, or anyone. Especially not when the man I am married to is Anakin Skywalker, the Hero With No Fear, the heroic public face of the Clone Wars…of the Jedi Order, and for some reason that strikes me as extremely funny; after all, you could say it was he and I who _started_ the Clone Wars. You could also say it was his former Master, Obi-Wan Kenobi. Or you could say what everyone says, but which I said first, about an entirely different matter: I think Count Dooku was behind it.

Anakin and I have been married for three years, but it was thirteen years ago that he told me we were going to get married. He was nine years old and I had just met him, and he had asked me if I was an angel. A few minutes later, he looked at me with that intense stare of his, and informed me that, "I'm going to marry you someday." Then, I had wanted to laugh but something in his eyes didn't let me.

Anakin was a slave, I was a queen, but he didn't know that, and he wouldn't for days. First, he thought I was a farm girl, then a handmaiden. No one knew, not even with Sabe, my handmaiden, and I switching places several times, when I was Amidala and when I was Padmé. Well, really, I was always Padmé somehow, I just hid it better under layers of robes and ceremonial face painting. Padmé was a fourteen-year-old girl from the mountains. She was human, imperfect. She wasn't what the planet needed to see in a time of crisis. But still, she was me. Sometimes I think, with our double lives, it's a wonder both Ani and I don't have some kind of identity crisis. But I was seventeen when I figured out who I was, Padmé Amidala, girl and symbol both. It wasn't an easy process. But Anakin is just himself, Anakin the hero, Anakin the man, Anakin the husband, and now- now Anakin the father, even if he doesn't know it and won't until he comes home from the Outer Rim. He is reckless, heroic, and funny with me, and when he's saving planet after planet from catastrophe. I am still split off, still have the reserved, dignified, Senator shell I wear in public. And when Anakin's gone and I am alone, I am never myself. And does that ever sound pathetic. But I learned long ago I couldn't have friends and now it's even worse. They would never know the biggest part of me, the part I share with Anakin- and soon, with this child inside me- and they would be intimidated by the other part of me, the politician part, the icy chill that keeps everyone at arm's length. Anakin is more than friends with Obi-Wan; Obi-Wan is like his father and his brother and his best friend all in one. All the years Anakin and I were far apart, both growing up, me far more than I would have cared to admit, liking to think that at fourteen I was fully mature, he was with Obi-Wan, and I was…with myself and my family, and learning all the differences between us by heart, studiously ignoring the similarities.

My family- my mother and father and my sister and then her husband and two children- have never understood me. Well, Sola's daughters understand me, sort of, but then again they are eleven and eight. My mother wants me to get married (Ha!) , have children (yet again, Ha!) and settle down. Well, two out of three isn't bad. She will never understand that, as much as with Anakin, danger is a part of me. I never wanted to leave Coruscant, even after I was nearly killed twice, and I was the one who got Anakin to go to Geonosis, where we nearly died, a war began, and Anakin's arm was cut off. But we did save Obi-Wan's life. Our marriage is as much- more- of a risk than anything we've ever done. My father- he understands me more than my mother, but he doesn't get why the life he and my mother had can never be enough for me. He doesn't understand why, again like Anakin, I look up at the sky and see billions of stars, and in those stars see all the places I want to go. My sister, the perfect one, who did exactly what my parents want me to do, understands me least of all. I confound her, I make her mad. She watches me play with Ryoo and Pooja, her daughters, and not-so-slyly asks me why I don't want children of my own (Ha!) and I say I do, and then she says…well, then it gets ugly and my mother comes in and asks us how old we think we are, six? My family, it pains me to think, would founder in my world, where there are bounty hunters and assassinations and ulterior motives, and where the city is built on foundations of age-old secrets. They don't know I have a bounty on my head, or that I don't care. Crap, now I have to, I can't get shot. I do not know this child, but already I know I have to protect it. At all costs. Even if it means letting everyone know. I just hope Anakin agrees.


	2. Baby Brother

A/N: I am going to hit the fast forward button on this story…um…it's three months later, and Anakin is still gone.

Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars. I'm sorry- excuse me- runs in the bathroom to cry.

And, of course, the dress won't zip. Sabe is pulling and yanking and whalebone-corseting me, but I know it's not going to help. And I have this stupid Senate dinner party in five minutes. Palpatine will get drunk and split off into multiple personalities and attempt to feel up at least one of the women, resulting in major injury, and the entire Senate attempting not to fall over laughing. If he comes within ten feet of me I swear I'll stab him with a salad fork.

"I'm sorry, milady, but the zipper must be broken," says Sabe. That or I'm pregnant, which I am and will never say out loud.

"That's fine, I'll just get a different dress," I say, thankful Sabe was the one who came in here when I called for someone to help me zip the dress, and not Dorme. She, I know, suspects Anakin and I had- a relationship- but Sabe is unfailingly loyal. Any thought like that, she pushes immediately from her mind. I hurry to the closet and grab the biggest dress I own. It's plain dark blue, but I'll just put a robe on over it, which I do hurriedly. I run a comb through my rebellious curls- and break it. Of course. I fall over attempting to yank the broken piece out of my hair and stub my toe on the vanity. Hopping, I grab shoes from the closet and yank those on, having finally succeeded at getting the comb out of my hair. Standing before the mirror, I put a hand on my stomach, feeling the slight swell of it, invisible beneath the robes. A tiny flutter touches my hand, it's early for that, but then again, fourteen is early for a queen and this baby does have half my genes. A secret smile lights my face, and then the doorbell rings. I go out to greet the guests.

Let the fun begin.

Two hours later, the party is in full swing. How lovely for me. Senator Lexi Dio, aka Senator Spiteful, asked me if I was gaining weight three times, which got so annoying I told her the truth, but in a supremely sarcastic tone, as in, "No, Lexi. I'm pregnant." That caused her to glare at me and tell me I wasn't funny, and it caused Bail Organa to fall over in convulsions of laughter. But I think he was drunk. Now, he is still laughing, she is still glaring, and Palpatine is hitting on Mon Mothma, who just whacked him over the head with a bowl, which I happen to find extremely hilarious. I go into my bedroom and wish Anakin was here. Then, I hear a noise in my closet, and I open the door. Dorme is standing there, obviously hiding. I glance around the room and find my desk drawers open.

"Dorme!" I say. "Are you snooping?" She looks very, very guilty.

"I heard what you said to Senator Dio," she says, face flushing. "And, well , I was kind of wondering-"

"If it was _true_?" I say in my most incredulous, I-cannot-believe-you-just-said-that-I-thought-you-were-my-friend voice. The most important Senatorial skill: being an Oscar-worthy actress.

"Well," she says in a small voice, "yes."

I act angry, disbelieving, offended.

"You thought I was _pregnant._" She nods. " You thought _I_ was pregnant?"

"Yes," she squeaks. I sink down into the chair, pretending to be overcome. (It's a trick I've used before, like in order to get to the blasters hidden in the throne room in the Naboo war).

"By _who_?" I say, as though I am exhausted by the mere thought of what she will say next.

"Well," she says. "Anakin?" I force my jaw to drop, make myself stare at her as though I cannot believe what I am seeing- or hearing.

"_Anakin_!" I say, as if in horror, when in my mind I am whispering his name like a poem, a plea, a caress. Then, I make myself laugh.

"Anakin. Anakin. The Anakin I met when he was nine? The Anakin who 'protected' me three years ago and nearly got us both killed?" I say. She nods, meekly.

"If I had a brother, and if I were pregnant, it'd be like saying _he_ was the father," I saw. I am convincing her, she thinks it all sounds ridiculous now. God, I want to laugh.

"Ani's my baby brother, Dorme, nothing more." I think of how angry he'd be to hear me say that, how he'd pick me up and toss me, squealing, on the bed to prove how much he was not 'little'. Only he wouldn't, now, because I am not just me anymore. The baby is there, too, and I think I know how he would treat me; like a porcelain doll, too fragile to move. I think I'm going to puke, I've spent years fighting that perception. I sigh, and Dorme looks at me.

"I guess I was wrong," she says. "It really sounds stupid now."

"Yeah," I say. "Because it is."


	3. It's Getting Hot in Here

A/N: Sorry I haven't written in a while. School is unconstitutional. State mandated torture. Where's my due process? My habeas corpus! I hate President Bush. Wow, was that ever random. I also have a clothespin on my nose like Amy from Little Women. Okay, skipping forward, to the day of Anakin's homecoming (meaning Padmé is about 8 ½ months along.)

Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars. All I own is some crummy math homework, this computer, and some clothes. I need some caffeine. I'm going to get some caffeine and then write this pretty story. Wheee. Okay now.

I pull on another robe, over the two I already have on over my dress. There's still an evident bulge. Crap. It is so, so hot. I examine myself in the mirror again. Just a tiny little bulge, I convince myself. I wish I were taller. It wouldn't be so obvious, then. I still haven't talked to Anakin, he's still out in the Outer Rim somewhere. I don't know what we're going to. There's an obvious possibility staring me in the face, but I don't want to think about it.

I cannot quit the Senate. I will not go home to my parents in defeat. I cannot face my sister. It's just…not possible, but then again, that's what I told Anakin about our relationship three years ago. And that got me…well, this. I sigh and gingerly sit myself on the floor, against the wall. Crap, utter crap, now I have to get up.

The day gets even freaking better when I get to the Senate. The Chancellor has been kidnapped by, who else? Count Dooku! (I swear, people should listen to me.) Not that it'd be all bad if he were to be removed from office. Over the past months, Palpatine has taken over more and more of the government. If I hadn't know him since I was a little girl, I'd think he was out to take over the Republic and turn it into an Empire or something. But there is good news, such good news, along with that. Anakin is coming home! All the available Jedi have been sent to get the Chancellor back, and of course, war heroes Anakin and Obi-Wan are at the forefront. Then, though, we move on to regular business, which is thoroughly boring…and the Senate chambers are so, so hot, and suddenly, I am falling, falling, falling…


	4. Not Here

A/N: Okay, here is Anakin's arrival home. School sucked. (Duh, when doesn't it?) I missed debate club and I did the wrong vocabulary for English. If my teacher fails me on it, I'll get a C. In English! Me! That's just…wrong. I _cannot _get a C in English…I'm freaking out! hyperventilates into paper bag. On a positive note, _Gilmore Girls_ referenced _Star Wars _like 5 times! Yay!

Disclaimer: George Lucas still doesn't want my math homework. Darn.

It is cold and white when I wake up. I'm alone in a small, white room, wearing- to my horror- a hospital gown that shows…well, my condition. Questions flash immediately through my mind – Who brought me here? Have I been examined? Does anyone know?

I am about to have a major panic attack when a medical droid walks- floats- in.

'Hello, Miss Padmé. May I examine you?" it asks.

"No, no, no way!" I yell, pulling the covers up to my chin. "I'm perfectly all right, just overheated. Now, if I could have my clothes back, please?"

"Of course," it says to my surprise and relief. I don my clothes and take an air taxi back to the Senate building, as it turns out, just in time for Anakin's arrival. I see him through the crowd, standing with Obi-Wan and Palpatine. What was once a ship is behind them, still smoking. I shudder, thinking of what could have happened to them, would have happened if Anakin hadn't been aboard that ship, the amazing pilot that he is.

I watch Anakin break away from the crowd, but he is followed by Senator Organa. They are coming toward me, so I slip behind a pillar. I don't want to face Bail's questions about my fainting episode today. I follow them, pillar to pillar, until Ani excuses himself from Bail, wait until he walks away, and then slips into my arms. He kisses me, deep and slow and almost painful with the intensity built of the almost nine months we've been apart. It starts a slow burning through me, warming me up, leaning me toward Anakin like a flower opens to the sun. But, as always, I am the practical one.

"Not here, Ani," I tell him. He grabs for me again.

"Yes, here!" he cries petulantly.

"Anakin-" I try to cut him off.

"No- I'm tired of keeping secrets, Padmé, I don't care if they know we're married!" he says.

"Anakin, you don't mean that. We need you, the Republic needs you," I say, echoing words he once said to me. He reaches for me again, and I can't help it but I'm shaking with the intensity of all the things that have happened in the past months.

"Padmé, you're trembling. What's wrong?"

"No-nothing. It's just that- you've been gone so long- and it's been so hard- I've had to-"

"Is there someone else?" he asks harshly. I pull back, incredulous.

"No! Anakin! Nothing's changed, you still don't trust me!"

"What is it then? Something bad? Are you sick?"

"No, no, something wonderful. Ani- I'm pregnant."

"Wha-?" shock and then joy wash over his face, and he pulls me closer, feeling the curve of my stomach against him. "Oh, oh, I can feel it!" he exclaims in wonder, and I laugh. We will pull through this, together. After all, my Ani is the Hero with No Fear. He can do anything.


	5. Hero With A Lot of Fear

A/N: They referenced Star Wars on Gilmore Girls! "What does a four foot tall mound of dirt have that just gets rid of all the other powers- the flashlight thingies, the mind-moving stuff?" "I have the high ground! I win!" It was just…awesome. And Lorelai said, "So join a website. There are thousands of 'your kind' out there debating all this stuff…" (or something like those not-exact quotes) Like me! And us! And yay! Oh, I have a little what-if to explore…something wakes Anakin up in the night…what _doesn't _he have? And what _doesn't _happen because of it?

Disclaimer: I don't own Star Wars. My English teacher gave my vocabulary a 0 because I did the wrong words. How am I supposed to keep all this crap straight in my pounding, jumbled head, (or my messed up, tiny, assignment book? Vocab asst. is about all I can fit in. How'm I supposed to remember which one?) I offered to redo the assignment instead of the one we were doing today, which was the same list I did instead of the other one, but no. I don't think that's fair. Can all the people who've never screwed up please step forward? cricket noises. I thought so. Hmm, interestingly enough, I don't see my English teacher up here! Just, well, God. Huh. How strange. Did I make a point? (I know, this relates to my not owning Star Wars how, exactly?)

I wake up in the middle of the night. Kick…kick…kick… ow! I make a noise and wake Anakin up. "Aaah!" he yells, sitting up.

"Did you have a bad dream?" I ask.

"No…just a weird one. I was in this creepy hallway and it was all foggy and someone was yelling."

"I think even Freud would have a hard time with that one."

"Yeah…it was really odd," he says, running his hand through his hair. "Oh! Why did you wake up? Is something wrong? Is it the baby?" he starts to panic.

"Relax, Anakin. It just kicked me, is all, and it woke me up. Nothing bad. Here." I take his hand and place it over my stomach. The baby kicks again, and his face lights up. I smile. After a moment, I get up and stretch my arms above my head.

"Padmé! You'll stretch baby!" he cries. "Put your arms down!" I roll my eyes at him and go into the kitchen. "Don't walk that fast! You'll jiggle baby!" he calls. I laugh and ignore him. He is so funny.

The next morning, I awake to hear Anakin messing around in the kitchen. I yawn and follow the noise. I find him surrounded by the contents of all our drawers. Not quite awake yet, I automatically head over to the java machine to get a cup of coffee. I sip, and then sputter.

"Anakin!" I yell.

"What?"

"You switched my coffee!"

"You can't have caffeine. Baby'll have two heads." He informs me.

"And you'll have none if you don't give me back my coffee!" I tell him.

"You don't have a lightsaber."

"I can remedy that."

"How- what're you doing?" he asks as I walk up and kiss him, grabbing his lightsaber in the process. I take it and wave it in the air as I dance around the kitchen.

"Ha! Ha! HA! Give me the coffee or I'll throw this out the window," I threaten.

"I don't believe you," he says.

"Have fun explaining this to Obi-Wan, o ye of little faith," I say, opening the window and dangling his lightsaber hundreds of feet in the air. He uses the Force to call it back to him and shut the window.

"Now, now, little Ani, what would Master Obi-Wan say if he saw that?" I tease.

"Something much more mild than what he'd say if he saw _this_," he says, pulling me into a kiss.

"True enough," I breathe. We haven't addressed our problems yet, and I don't want to. I want to stay safe in this perfect moment, a moment of normalcy, of security, of precious ordinariness. I want time to stand still. But, I am after all the practical one. I have to go on, to function, to plan out life, so I am the one to shatter the peaceful moment.

"Anakin, what are we going to do about the baby?" I ask. His face changes to an expression of concern.

"You need to see a doctor," he tells me. I sigh.

"I know, but I can't see one here, everyone would know," I explain.

"We could buy a medical droid, it could examine you, then I could cut it into tiny little pieces," he suggests. I laugh.

"All right, but what about after the baby comes? It will be a scandal, me having a baby without an ostensible husband. I'll have to leave the Senate…" I trail off, noticing the puzzlement on his face.

"No! Padmé, you can't carry this alone."

"Anakin, I don't think you can do much about it," I joke, gesturing to my stomach.

"Padmé, we have to tell someone. You need to see a doctor. I mean, things happen…you need to be safe."

"A bit late for that," I joke again.

"Stop it, this isn't funny!" Something in his voice lets me know there is more he isn't telling me.

"Anakin, what is it? Something is bothering you," I say.

"It's…my dream. The person…she was yelling my name. And I think it was you."

"Wha- what?" I ask tremulously.

"I don't want you to be hurt!"

"Anakin, it's _supposed _to hurt!"

"I think we should tell someone!"

"Who? Obi-Wan?"

"No…I think we should tell Chancellor Palpatine."

Oh. Shit.


End file.
